In The Absence Of
by Beckon
Summary: The momentary contact was gentle and felt odd against her skin; there was no stress, no sense of violence, nothing… it was just a brief moment of contact, that was it. Oneshot.


**A/N: May have done this because it just happens to be Szayel's listed birthday, or maybe just because I happened to find two romance prompts I wanted to try my hand at... Maybe both. **

"Because sometimes… people change, they become something different and they forget to tell each other."

She frowned lightly at the words that left his lips, eyes slowly dropping to the bandages he was fixating around his broken knuckles; a painful set of crackling noises popped as he forced the misplaced joints back into their places. A short groan was suppressed before he continued to wrap the bandages, making them tight in hopes they would keep his knuckles stationary for now. He seemed to be going out of his way to keep her from seeing the injury, keeping it mostly out of her sight as he worked to tend to it himself.

"Do they forget to tell each other or are they afraid to?" she questioned lightly, keeping the words more so on her lips and to herself. His lack of an immediate response seemed to give her the answer she was seeking… making it more or less a decent answer. Then again, she supposed she wasn't really looking for much anyways.

"Fear is nothing more than a lapse in psychological judgment." he started.

"It can be a physical thing as well."

"It's not worth the visuals."

His words came without hesitation... they always did.

She reached forward and traced her fingertips down the curve of his back, feeling the different muscles pull slightly at the touch. Trapezuis. Latissimus dorsi. Thoracolumbar fascia. "You're right in front of me and I can confirm that at this moment... I am scared. You're making sacrifices that no one else has ever done for me, sacrifices I wouldn't be able to return. This is a risk you're making… and yet you act with no binding sense of hesitation."

It seemed to take a moment for the tension to settle throughout his body, for her words to form some kind of legitimate statement in the back of his head before he eventually turned towards her. One arm moved to brush aside her hand, putting empty space between them once more. It was difficult to see those amber eyes of his behind shattered lens, but the edges of the glass were becoming smoother with every passing minute; it meant they were well on their way to self-repairing themselves.

She didn't bother flinching when his fingers reached towards her.

Fingertips brushed briefly across her cheek before they moved to settle against the soft curve of her jawline. The momentary contact was gentle and felt odd against her skin; there was no stress, no sense of violence, nothing… it was just a brief moment of contact, that was it.

"Hesitation is only an obstacle as well."

"An obstacle to what?"

He said nothing in return at first and instead merely moving his fingers to brush through her untouched, ebony locks. For a moment, he seemed to be taking in a sense of serenity with the soft motion... as though glad to see that not a single strand had been moved from its place.

"To something I have no intentions of losing."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?"

His grip on her arms had been kept light to keep himself from irritating her wounds, making it easier for her to break herself out of his hands. There was a little annoyance in trying to move different portions of her body, she could feel her own injuries tearing just slightly with the motions. The battle had been short and hardly worth the energy she wasted on it… she had just been too blindsided by her own emotions to realize that a few of those rebelling officers had drawn out their swords.

There were several gashes that tore through her sides, one of them ruining her obi sash in its process.

A few droplets of blood had been spilled and smeared across the floor tiles beneath her, getting into every small crevice available. Her uniform itself was soaked on one side which made it bundle irritatingly against the open wound itself.

"I wasn't thinking…" she started in answer, eyes eventually shifting upwards to meet his own. The tension along his jawline said he wasn't happy about the situation, the small cut on one cheek proved to be a minor detail from the battle… but it was the loose sense of emotion in his eyes that said differently. He was angry she would take his place in a fight like that, putting herself between him and their opposition, taking every hit that was directed towards him.

He was worried as well.

The slight press of his lips together said he was trying to choose his next phrase of words carefully, but a half defeated sigh shattered his concentration on the matter. Hands moved towards her once more, cupping themselves more forcibly against her jaw. She could feel the slight press of his fingertips into her skin before he tried to loosen the grip.

"You scared me…"

She sought out those words in his eyes, looking to see if they matched... and they did. He wasn't lying or even exaggerating.

"I thought you said fear was just a lapse in psychological judgment."

There was always that bitter since of irritation when someone pointed out that he contradicted himself, but this time seemed to be different; a brief chuckle escaped him instead of a sharp remark. "And you said that I was making sacrifices that you could not return, yet you did so just now."

"… Then we are both wrong."

"For once, I have no problem with that."

Hands moved to brush against his cheeks before she pulled him in towards her, bringing their lips together for a brief moment. "Someone once said happiness was the absence of suffering… but I would be willing to suffer again and again to keep you."


End file.
